A Thorny Vine, thy twisted time
by SinningLittleAngel
Summary: During the search for Horcruxes, Hermione is plagued with dreams of a man she does not know, but one thing is clear, he needs her help. In the aftermath of Ron getting splinched and finding the horcrux Hermione is determined to find this mystery man, the one called Sam and why she is being drawn to Pontiac, Illinois. Rated MA for later chapters. All rights reserved, I own nothing.
1. A plea from hell

A plea, from Hell.

It had been happening for three months. Hermione had been plagued with dreams of a man spread on chains, one resembling a meat hook as it held him tight punched through his shoulder. His screams for Sam echoed through her mind as her heart pounded. Terror gripped her and she was unsure why she saw these things. She twists left and right searching for the source as she hears the steady beat of approaching wings, but the source is a bright light, burning brighter than the sun in the sky and it hurt to try and look at it.

Hermione twists in the sheets as the green eyed man screams in pain, he notices that in any other situation she would consider him incredibly attractive, tall, light brown hair, muscular physique that would make any girls head turn and maybe drool a little. She hears it again, a soothing voice, barely a whisper uttering words of comfort that Hermione can see the man in chains does not hear. "Please" she begs "Please save him…" Her throat is raw and tight from screaming, the burning heat around her has her dripping in sweat, so much that her skin gleams in the molten light. She hears the voice again, calming the man, telling him that he has been sent by the lord, to have faith.

An alarm sounds through the halls, the fast approaching wings spreading terror around them, the man on the table screams louder, his voice a gravelly rasp and the energy it takes seems to drain him of life, he pales as the wings pound overhead. Terror grips Hermione and she screams once more. She jumps up in her bunk, her heart racing as her hands tremor. She looks around the tent and quietly admonishes herself. "It's just a dream, it's just a dream. That man does not exist". Even as she repeats this she casts spells, adding to the protective charms as quietly slips out of bed. The only sounds are Harry's breathing as he sits on watch and Ron's sonorous snoring. A part of her, deep within tells her that its real, that the man she keeps seeing is in desperate need of saving, whilst another chastises her, her inner swot telling her that even Professor Trelawney thought she had as much talent as a seer as she did with flying.

Using her wand she sets the kettle on the stove to boil, needing something soothing to calm her nerves. They had all been edgy since Ron had been splinched on their escape from the Ministry. Hermione knew that they could not stay in the Black family home after Yaxley had seen where they were headed. No doubt in the week that had followed it had been searched in its entirety and would not be safe for them to return.

Ron's wounds were healing slowly, but the presence of the Horcrux was weighing on all of them already. They could barely wear it for more than a day before the effects became impossible to withstand. It whispered, like an insidious worm, of ceasing greatness if only she bent to its will. Save him from Harry and it would give her anything she desired. It promised to help her bring her parents memories back, of safety for them and Hermione from Lord Voldemort.

The kettle gave a shrill whistle and Hermione jumped, quickly turning the ring off and making herself some tea. She makes a cup for Harry too, deciding being alone isn't what she needs right now. Her eyes move to rest on Ron for a moment, its pale greyish skin making his riot of ginger hair stand out more prominently, even in his sleep he seems restless, nothing that Hermione knows of healing can seem to help him find comfort and rest.

Her feelings for him are not what they used to be, all through sixth year, watching him with Lavender Brown had made her jealous, tore at her even. But then Dumbledore had died, and in a moment of need and comfort he'd kissed her, and she had felt… nothing. An emptiness so vast she didn't know what to make of it. She had tried it again when she returned to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding and she still felt nothing. One look in Ron's eyes had told her this wasn't the same for him. His eyes had shone with happiness and Hermione hated that she couldn't return his feelings.

Shaking her head she moves towards Harry, crossing her legs as she sits next to him and passes him his cup. He murmurs a thank you as she leans her head on his shoulder hooking her arm through his. The cool autumn air ruffles the leaves in the canopy of leaves above them, the slight chill welcome against her heated clammy skin. Harry doesn't say anything else, just lets her sit with her thoughts as she holds him close and sips her tea. Hermione looks out through the trees, her encounter with the snatchers the day before has stopped her wearing her vanilla scented perfume. She'd never forgive herself if her vanity was why they were caught.

An hour passes as they sit together in silence, the messy haired wizard beside her, somehow knowing she needs this silence with him by her. Harry's green eyes flicker in the darkness the light from the nearby lamp giving them a fiery glow and bringing Hermione's mind back to her dream. She huffs lightly causing Harry to meet her eyes a question in them she does not even attempt to answer. That was no dream she thought, that was worse than any nightmare she has ever had. It's as though the man she is seeing is reaching out, searching for salvation and finding her instead.

"Harry, when you dreamed of You-know-who returning, did you, did you ever feel drawn somewhere, like you're being there was vital? Like a pull from deep within?" Harry looks at her, his brow furrowing over the rim of his glasses as he watches her, making Hermione fidget. "It's okay" she hastens, "You don't have to tell me, I guess that dream just got to me". Harry shifts, the dirt shifting beneath him as he turns to face her, his face lined with concern.

"What did you see Hermione? A horcrux? A way to be rid of them or find them even?" His voice is probing and immediately her head shakes a negative, her eyes wide as her fingers twist around the cup in her lap. "No, it's not, it's not anything to do with that. I keep seeing a man, he's being tortured, and its dark, surrounded by fire, and its hot, like standing too close to a bonfire, the flames almost lick my skin. And he's calling for help, screaming for someone called Sam. He's chained with meat hooks and suspended horizontally in the air. Wings approach and it's like whatever is coming knows I am there, I can feel something touch me but I can't see it, whatever is coming is too bright and I can't see anything because of the light."

She looks at him desperately, her eyes pleading for answers her books have yet to yield to her. She didn't bring books on dream interpretation, reasoning when she had packed that it would be a useless addition to what they needed to take. It had seemed so smart then, but now, now she wished that she had taken the books, anything to stop her from not knowing.

"I know it sounds crazy and we have enough issues to be dealing with, we need to stop him, but this man, Harry it's like I know him even though I have never met him, and every time before I wake a signpost appears it says 'Welcome to Pontiac, Illiniois'. I just, I… Harry I can't keep having that dream." Harry pulls her into a one armed hug, he doesn't know what to say, He had heard her crying out in her dream, calling for a 'Sam' the panic in her voice worried him. This was Hermione, the girl who stormed out of Trelawney's classroom declaring it all rubbish never to return.

Normally he wouldn't even give nightmares a second thought, but Hermione didn't give into irrational thoughts, she found logic in everything. He didn't want her distracted not now, not when he needed her help completing this mission from Dumbledore and he knew it was selfish. This didn't have to be Hermione's fight, it was his task. She could have run with her family but she had chosen him, a humbling thought, and right now she needed something from him.

He pulls back from the hug and laughs at a rather loud snore coming from Ron inside, breaking the tension. He takes the cup in her hands and places it to the side, giving her hand a light squeeze. "If it stops these dreams do you want to head there in the morning? They won't be searching for us in the states and maybe we can find a library over there, see if we can find more information on Horcruxes." Harry didn't really believe that last part but he felt he owed her, she had saved him so many times, believed him when no one, not even Ron had. He knew he'd said the right thing when her face lit up, throwing herself into his arms and thanking him over and over. Pulling back he gave her a grin "So, Pontiac, right?"


	2. Dead Man Rising

Dead Man Rising.

"Ouch". Hermione let out a gasp of pain as Ron's knee had slammed into her gut as they landed, and Harry lay slumped beneath them both. Quickly shifting we reach to help Ron up, his balance still off from all the blood he has lost, however he didn't look as drawn today. Flicking her wand she summoned the portkey to her, removing the enchantments before surveying their surroundings.

"We should get moving from here" she states "I don't know what the American laws are on unauthorised portkeys but I doubt we want to be here when they come looking". Ron and Harry grunt an agreement, both of them still cleaning themselves off from where we landed in the middle of an old dirt road. Hermione knew that neither of them truly wanted to be here, but Ron really did need time to heal and maybe they could find some source of information that would help them.

Hermione clung desperately to that rationalisation, she knew she was stretching the truth, they would not find any horcruxes here, and the only wizarding library she knew of in the states was in Salem. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, the sign post on the corner assured her that the portkey had been a success and they hadn't ended up in China by mistake. She focused on the pull deep within her that had guided her here to begin with as Ron grumbled about being hungry. Hermione refused to rise to that loaded comment again, clearly her cooking was found lacking in his eyes when compared to his mother's Molly Weasley.

She tugged at a curl, pushing it behind her ear as she followed the pull it was insistent in a easterly direction from where they now stood. She was weary of apparating straight there, what if she took them somewhere in full view of muggles? The results could be disastrous, it would lead Voldemort's followers directly to them. No, Hermione reasoned as she looked over at the beat up car at the side of the road, best to blend in.

"Ron" she called, gesturing to the car "Think you remember how to drive still?" She knew immediately she had made the right call as his face lit up, almost gleeful as he looked over the car. Hermione wasn't all that into cars, but she could tell it was an old mustang, and was big enough for the three of them to ride in comfortably without resorting to magic. Ron and Harry both practically crooned to the car as they magically unlocked it and slipped into the front. "So…" Ron started as he magically started the car and drove into town, moving past the exact signpost Hermione kept seeing in her dream. "Where are we going and what are we looking for, I mean, no offense Hermione, but 'I have a feeling we need to be in Pontiac' isn't much to go on. We still need to find the sword."

Hermione sighed as her shoulders slumped, meeting Ron's eyes briefly in the rear view mirror from her position in the backseat. "It's not so much 'we' Ron, as I need to be here, I just know there's something real here no matter how strange it sounds." Ron and Harry share another one of those looks they gave her all morning, one of humouring disbelief. It reminded her of that look a parent gives to their child when hearing about Monsters under the bed. Clearly Ron was just humouring her.

Before they can comment she tells Ron to pull over, that voice, the soothing on from her dreams, she can hear it, "Dean Winchester is saved" it heralds. When Ron hesitates she screams at him to stop the car as the ground rumbles, and a blast of white light emanates from the woods at the side of the road.

The car swerves as Ron slams on the ancient brakes; a high pitched squeal accompanies the smell of burnt rubber. Harry turns to look at her with an incredulous look, before drawing his wand and hurrying out of the car. "Bloody hell Hermione, I thought you didn't believe in divination and now you're having visions?" Ron utters an explicit agreement which Hermione chooses to ignore. Instead of answering them she runs, headed straight into the trees as the others shout, calling her, before following, hot on her heels.

Hermione couldn't explain the sudden sense of urgency, something told her that he couldn't breathe, even though she had no idea who he was. She ran through the woods, jumping fallen trees and weaving through low hanging branches, her cheek getting scrapped on the bark of a redwood as she rushes. Her heart is pounding when she reaches the clearing, Ron and Harry coming to a sudden stop behind her as they look over the clearing.

For a hundred meters in all directions trees have been felled from the root, reminding Hermione of the crop circles her father had liked to show her and explain how they were faked. There was a smell of ozone in the air, and a hum, a kind of energy that she couldn't place that reminded her of the arching gateway Sirius Black had fallen through in the department of mysteries. As though deaths doorway had opened here too as it does there.

They slowly head to the center now, wands drawn and Hermione can hear her heart pounding, a lump in throat forming as she makes her way to the wooden cross, which stands dead center in the field. She moves as though in a trance barely hearing Ron as he calls her to stop, shaking his attempts to restrain her, to hold her back. He and Ron argue as she falls to her knees in the dirt, directing her wand to the earth and soundlessly summoning the man from her dreams.

For a second her wand does nothing and she panics, fearing she led them into danger for nothing when a red spark shoots into the earth and she call feel her magic catch and tug. She scrambles back on all fours as a hand appears which she grabs instinctively yelling at Ron and Harry to help her. She pulls and more of the arm appears the hand in hers grips tight, the feel of his grip is somewhat reassuring as Ron and Harry help her pull him free. He pauses on all fours, gasping for air once we get him free, Harry and Ron exchange a look as Hermione looks over the man before her.

He's the man from her dreams, she'd know those eyes anywhere as he looks over at her, and for a moment she's lost, she doesn't know what to do, Hermione doesn't believe in dreams and prophecies, they are the delusions that the weak minded put stock behind to try and find meaning in their lives. She bites her lip as she notices even covered in dirt, fresh from the grave he just might be the sexiest man she's ever laid eyes on. The errant thought causes her to blush red before she belatedly remembers he must need a drink. Reaching into her bag she quickly summons a water flask and offers it too him as he narrows his eyes at them, something calculating and mistrusting in his eyes before he takes a drink.

"Hermione" Harry calls, making her break the on-going eye contact as she looks up to him and Ron "We need to get out of here fast". Hermione nods but before she can move a hand suddenly wraps around her throat, dragging her forward and she struggles gasping for air. "Who the hell are you, and what did you do to me you black eyed bitch?" She struggles more, trying to form words that won't come out as Harry and Ron aim their wands at him, yelling at him to release her.

Hermione's eyes bulge as she struggles to reach her wand on the ground as he growls at her again, giving up her hands coming up to scratch at the one around her neck, the lack of air making her light headed. Harry hits him in the back of the head jarring him into releasing her. Harry summons binds to wrap around the man's wrists as Ron leans over Hermione as she strokes her neck, checking that she's okay.

"Who are you?" She whispers and a look of confusion flickers in the man's face. "We didn't raise you, we just followed whatever brought you here to find you, but we have no idea who or what you are." It's the 'or what' that catches his attention, and he clears his throat, his hands twisting in his bindings as he looks at her. "My name is Dean Winchester…"


	3. Telling of Tales

Telling of tales.

"My name is Dean Winchester, now untie me, you sons of bitches before whatever caused this reappears". Dean glared at them when they just exchanged looks. That's when he notices, they are young, like freaking jail bait young. He's about to start mouthing off when his bindings just fall from him and he notices she has that stick in her hands again, in fact they all do. Before he can think on that the dark haired kid, in the wire rimmed glasses offers him a hand, a scar on his forehead is one of the few discriminating features about him. Dean grunts before taking the hand up to stand, sizing him up and finding him short, 5'6" tops.

He looks around at the grave site, something as a hunter he knows he shouldn't have, it sends chills down his spine, when he hit lights out playing chew toy to Satan's bitch Sammy was being attacked by Lilith. If he's buried in an unmarked grave someone knew to dispose of the body, but why he was buried instead of being salted and burnt is troubling him. There's an ache on his left shoulder, a burning sensation as he rolls it, stretching to buy time as he sized up his supposed rescuers.

The red headed kid she'd called Ron was still standing over her, his arm in a sling, but no cast that he can see. He's taller and pale, almost sickly so, with a shock of messy red hair in need of cutting, but he has a muscular build, arms built from sport and if he wasn't injured Dean would assume he was the muscle of this trio. The girl, now she was something else, she's petite, with deep dark eyes set into a heart shaped face, her hair a messy almost bushy tangle of curls that sits around her shoulders. She's pretty but even Dean can see she's going to be stunning in a few years, hell, Dean was considering whether seducing the pretty brunette would be worth the jail time.

They led him to a beat up old mustang, the guys taking the front seats leaving him and the girl to the backseat. A smirk he can't seem to help stretches his lips as he thinks of what he'd do with her if he didn't have her friends in the car for company. Hell from the glare red was giving him he'd guess Ron knew what he was thinking. "Hermione" the dark haired one calls, "where are we headed now, we have him but we can't stay here?"

Hermione stops her perusal of Dean, the way he's been staring at her making her blush, something Ronald for once doesn't seem to be oblivious to. She meets Harry's eyes and sighs, she got them into this, it is up to her to make sure they make it out of it alive. From the way Dean had choked her, she expected more of a fight from him, maybe he still would fight them something about him set her on edge, a sense of awareness she's uncertain of and has no idea how to react too.

"Harry head somewhere we can safeguard, but first we need to get medical supplies and food, Ron's bandages need changing and I am betting Dean would kill for food and a shower." Harry looks at her before setting the car gear into first and heading out onto the highway, mumbling something about muggles and magic. "Look, I know we have that other thing to attend to, but until we can find…" she pauses. Hermione gave Dean a nervous look as he followed the interaction like a hawk, before swallowing hard and finishing "a cure for our little problem."

Dean smirks at her before stretching out this time noticing the flush on her cheeks as she looks at him. "So Hermione, where and when are we? And what little problem do you have that needs curing?" He gives a stage whisper as though keeping the conversation between them both "Did one of them get the clap from a local girl?" She scowls and Dean just grins, good he thinks, she's easily riled up she'll get so mad she'll tell him everything.

He doesn't get the reaction he wanted, the three share a look before lapsing into silence, a silence Dean can't abide, he misses driving, he wants his baby, his impala not this heap of rusted junker they've got running on a prayer. Most of all he wants to find Bobby and Sam and get the answers to the questions burning a hole in his head. Silence is bad. Silence lets him reflect on hell and it's all he can do not to react to the silent dread and fear threating to break him.

It's a while before Harry starts, his eyes fixed on the road but flicking back every so often as they meet his in the rear view mirror. "Hermione started having dreams about a man ripped apart by a hellhound before following his soul to be chained to the gates of hell. They started 3 months ago, she'd see him being tortured before wings shrouded in light approached causing his torturers to flee in terror. For months she tried to convince herself it was stress, that she wasn't a seer, that the man in her dreams didn't need her help.

"They stopped being every night for a while, she equated them to her mind being stressed and stopped thinking about it. That is until she started seeing a signpost for Pontiac Illinios every night just before she woke screaming for Sam, the one she heard him calling for too." Harry meets Dean's eyes as he pulls over at a gas station, its run down and looks abandoned, at least for now, a place where they can fill up and talk for a while. "So," he starts as he turns to face them "who's Sam Dean, and why would Hermione be having visions of you?"

"Visions" Dean scoffs, "this isn't dungeons and dragons kid, visions and seers are just phonies who scam the gullible rich shits with more money than brains." Ron, the red headed kid smiles, a look aimed not at him but at Hermione. "She'd agree with you, ya know, if you hadn't have been right where she'd been dreaming you'd rise, and you're bloody lucky she did, or you'd still be in that grave right now. See, Hermione, she's muggleborn, her parents didn't believe in magic either, until they saw her float a book from the top shelf in the library when they told her she's too young to read it."

Dean's expression turns to one of rage as he looks between them "You're witches?!" before he can lash out Hermione waves that stick again crying out "Petrificus totalus!" and he freezes in his seat, unable to move anything but his eyes no matter how much he tries. Hermione tells them to go get the supplies they need, promising that she's safe and then turns to me, a look of panic in her eyes as she looks at me.

"Dean, please you have to understand, we aren't the witches you have heard of, no deal with devils gave us our powers, we were born with them. At the age of eleven we attend a school, ours is called Hogwarts, located on the border between Scotland and England and hidden from non-magical or muggle eyes." Her words are a rush, barely comprehensible as she rushes on with her story.

"This" she gestures to the stick in her hands "is my wand, I use it to channel my magic, we all do. That's the one sure way to tell the difference by a glance, our magic does not require blood sacrifice or the taking of souls." Deans disbelieving look has her almost wilting as she sends a pleading look into his eyes. "Look I know it sounds crazy but it is true, our world is in turmoil right now, we had to flee, one of ours has amassed followers and is looking to enslave all those who oppose him and the worst thing is we've killed him once and he came back. He wants to kill Harry and because we sided with him, Ron and I too. Please, we don't mean you harm, I just needed to save the man who was haunting my dreams."

Hermione's head drops almost in defeat and Dean has to strain to hear her. "I just wanted to save someone for once, we've lost too many people already." Her eyes meet his and she raises her wand again, muttering the releasing spell and Dean slumps in his seat. They share a look and Dean reaches his hand lifting up her chin, not sure how to react when the radio flicks to static, a high pitched sound emitting from it and getting louder. Dean scrambles looking for Iron, salt anything before the noise becomes unbearable.

Dean dives pushing Hermione into the gap between the seats and landing on top of her as the glass of the car shatters around them. He had acted on instinct and protected her as an innocent. Before Dean can even begin to interpret his reactions they hear the sound of running and an echoing fear filled yell "Hermione!"


End file.
